


Calling

by hotrodngold (Krystalicekitsu)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Reality, Community: stargateland, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/hotrodngold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd rather be shaved, ears to tail, for a month than listen to more of 'why can't Rodney McKay keep a female'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling

**Author's Note:**

> for [](http://stargateland.livejournal.com/profile)[**stargateland**](http://stargateland.livejournal.com/)'s [Long Challenge: Alternate Realities](http://stargateland.livejournal.com/111821.html#cutid1). The prompt/challenge was AU, so to that end, I've made all characters large, bipedal cats.

"I just don't get it," Rodney bemoans, ears flicking in distress. "We were fine yesterday and then all of a sudden it's 'I don't think this is what I was looking for'? I mean, if she was going to break up with me, wouldn't you think Jennifer'd at least have the decency to use something other than the 'it's not you, it's me' cliché?"

"Uh huh," John hums, claws clacking along Atlantis' tiled floors as he reaches up to scratch an itch.

"Dinner went fine on Tuesday, at least I thought it did- you think dinner went alright on Tuesday?" Rodney turns on John to ask and John has half a second to try and piece through the little bit of conversation he'd actually been paying attention to.

"Um, I guess so." Seeing Rodney's ears flick backwards in annoyance and not wanting to be the subject of his next rant, John amends, "Well, she didn't run yowling afterwards, right?"

"No, she didn't," Rodney huffs, fur bristling along his tail as he gets more agitated. John stares at the ceiling in miserable askance as they continue their patrol.

Half an hour later, John is practically _begging_ the universe to throw something nasty, evil and/or explosive (yes, he means that literally) at him so he can get out of this damned patrol. He'd rather be shaved, ears to tail, for a month than listen to more of 'why can't Rodney McKay keep a female'. Luckily, the scientist is so absorbed in his rant- and so socially inept- he doesn't notice that the nice, sleek John Sheppard he started with is now rather ruffled and slightly twitchy.

John just wishes it would all be over.

Another hour and a half he gets his wish as they finish their loop of the outlying wards of the city, the second false alarm in two weeks making his hackles go up in annoyance as much as a lingering sense of disquiet.

But he gets back to his office, sans Rodney, shucks his jacket and side arm and sets the coffee machine in the corner for a strong brew. Absently digging at an itch under his thigh holster, he keys up a blank report and sets up describing the long, long, boring, long and resentfully uneventful patrol.

After three quarters of an hour stumbling his way through requisition forms and one disciplinary request (he'd had to look up the punishment for that one and really- he didn't want to even _know_ ), Jennifer Keller pokes her way into his office.

"Sir?" she asks, head, one shoulder and a bit of her tail peeking around his door.

He waves her in with a flick of an ear, forcing his tail to resume its lazy, unconcerned swaying. This was not going to be a fun chat. Not if the cautious set of her ears (and his best friend's earlier ranting) was anything to go by.

She settled herself into one of his waiting chairs, surprise flickering across her face as it sank plushly beneath her.

"Surprises everyone," he drawls, letting his mouth drop in an easy smile. She nods and waits patiently as he finishes up the last lines of the form, or as patiently as one can, fidgeting with the edge of their uniform.

With a sigh of relief he shoves back from his desk and the dreaded paperwork just as the coffee machine beeps for the second time today. He preps himself a cup, adding sweetener as was his wont. He proffers a cup to her with a flick of his tail, then adds sweetener and whitener to her liking when she nods gratefully.

"So," he draws out the word, trying to seem like Rodney's best friend, rather than the military head of Atlantis, "what's up?"

Jennifer fidgets again, shifting in the chair before taking a lap of her coffee from the wide-rimmed mug.

"I," she coughs, clears her throat and continues, "I was wondering if… has Rodney said anything about… um, anything?"

John glances at the ceiling, flashing back on the long, bitter, hurt rant he'd been subjected to this morning, "Nope, can't say I remember anything."

Suddenly she sighs, tail jerking restlessly once before she stills it. John flicks his eyes to it unconsciously before drawing his eyes back up to her face.

"Well. That's not very promising," she states, looking down into her mug and finally John decides that this whole thing is never going to get off the ground (and Keller out of his office) unless he man's up and puts out the hard questions. He cringes at the thought.

"Jennifer," he begins gently, "I know you and Rodney split up."

She looks up at him gratefully, ears lying back in momentary distress before she forces them back upright.

"Now, as much as I'd love to say I'll help getting him back, as far as I know, _you_ were the one who broke up with him."

She nods.

"Ok, so I'm not sure why you're here."

"I mean," he ammended quickly, "It's not that I don't enjoy your company- I do- just- wouldn't one of your own friends be better suited to this?"

Her ears flick in embarrassment once, and then again as she mutters, "No, really not."

He sits patiently, ears and tail enticing her to open up.

"I'd like it if you could keep an eye on him- tell me how he's doing?" she asks and John's not quite sure why she'd want that, why she wouldn't want a clean break and he asks her so.

"I didn't stop loving him," she states, looking up and locking eyes with John for the first time since she came into his office, "I just realize that I would never make him happy."

"Jennifer," John says, startled into defending both his best friend and the longest relationship he'd seen said best friend maintain. And _enjoy_. "Of _course_ you make- made Rodney happy."

"No," she shakes her head, "No, not 'happy', Colonel. 'Content'. He was content with me but, John, I'm not what he wants."

"And that's fine with me," she says over his protests, "I'm just not willing to be second string to anyone."

"So, for me, could you keep an eye on him?" she asks and then John can see it's a plea, can see what it's costing her to ask this and he feels a spark of admiration even as he's nodding and she's getting up to leave.

"Jennifer," he stops her at the door, "Who would you have been second string to?"

She just stares at him, gaze heavy, resigned, gold eyes leaking the bitter sadness of defeat and he falls back in his chair, ears flicking in distress. He opens his mouth, closes it, ears still jerking back and forth in turmoil.

"No," he coughs roughly.

She stares at him a beat longer before whispering, "good afternoon, John," and leaving out the door with her tail nearly on the floor.

Its several minutes before he gets his tail and ears under proper control.

~*~

"-and don't let me catch you doing that again, you incompetent morons! D'you _want_ the city exploding?" Rodney snaps at the technicians, ears back and tail jerking in anger. He makes quite the picture, brindled fur ruffed in agitation along his neck, blue eyes biting and sharp, the long, lean lines of him coiling and uncoiling as he fights off what must be the near physical urge to claw into whatever morons of the day he's found.

"But you would've.." one of the techs tries to protest, only to get a sound boxing over the ears.

"I'm the Chief Science Officer," Rodney snarls, "and have four degrees! How many do you have? Two? _One_?"

Both sets of ears are flat against the techs' heads now, tails wrapping around legs and John doesn't stop the urge to let his jaw drop in a smile.

"Get out of my _sight_ before I do more than put a mark on your records!"

The two techs are gone even before Rodney's words have quit ringing through the lab.

The rest of the lab is empty as well, John notices in relief, Rodney's temper legendary for jumping onto the nearest observer and chewing them up and leaving the gristle. As much as a picture their vaulted CSO makes tearing up the less competent members of the expedition, the collateral damage was nearly just as lethal and not nearly worth the entertainment value.

John steps further into the lab and seals the door against entry, all to the musical serenade of Rodney snarling out threats under his breath.

Rodney turns for some tool or something on the bench behind him, ears jerking up in surprise and pleasure when he catches a glance of John.

That's all the cue he needs.

"John, good. Could you help me-?" Rodney cuts off as John's mouth finds his, hands cradling that square jaw he'd come to never think he'd get a chance to hold.

After a moment, John pulls back, eyes frantically searching dazed blue ones. Then Rodney gets some of his wits about him, a questioning call cooing out uncertainly.

John kisses him again, grinning against Rodney's lips as he feels a tail curl up around his leg, and hands scrambling at his jacket to pull him further in.


End file.
